Good Times
by Gigawatt
Summary: Marty and Doc reunite after almost 30 years of no exchange of anything. How has time changed the two?
1. Introduction

My first shot at fan fiction. Wow, I'm a nerd, eh? ...or is it geek or dork? Never could understand the differences between the three. Anyhoo.

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Back to the Future is NOT MINE. (unfortunately ;_;) Originally written by Robert Zemekis and Bob Gale, released by Universal Studios. Any other altered forms (i.e., Playstation 7) belong to their respective companies.

Thoughts SHOULD be in italics, but it doesn't seem to be working, so italics and ' ' for now. Enjoy! (Review? At least tell me what I'm doing wrong. Or why the italics won't work. ^_^; Many thanks to Anakin McFly and Stoko for letting me know how to fix the italics! I'll be busy all next week, so if I don't get chapter 2 done over the weekend, it'll be up next weekend. I hope.)

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"I'm trying to relax, so will you two please turn that goddamn PlayStation7 down and shut up!"

He slammed the door shut on his way out. _'Why did I let the goddamn kids have a sleepover?'_ Marty McFly Sr. fell into his Lay-Z-Boy 3000.

"They don't make 'em like they used to," he grumbled aloud to no one.

Even without his personal preferences, one could see that Marty had aged. Even the technology of the year 2012 couldn't reduce the wear and tear stress had inflicted upon Marty's visage in the past years... especially the last three.

He sighed, and checked the clock on the TV screensaver. 22:15. Another night before Jennifer had the kids for a month. Marty loved his kids with everything in his heart... but he wasn't exactly the best at expressing it.

Revolving in his chair, Marty's gaze fell upon items of old. The bottle of Happy Pills that nearly killed him and left him psychologically scared for life from taking drugs again. He tried not to think of how his family wept by his bedside... back when Jennifer still cared... his gaze moved again, hiding the dark memories from the front of his mind.

His faithful, blue guitar... two of the strings were broken, and it was horribly out of tune. The fact he still had "Johnny B. Goode" memorized didn't matter in this day and age... There just wasn't anyone that supported these out-of-date instruments, ever since kids got their hands on those bedamned Panasonic synthesiser boards that could recreate everything from electric guitars to trains.

Trains... he remembered the last train he had ever rode on... and the best friend he saw ride away in one.A faded photo caught his eye, sitting atop his vidbook shelf. He stood and crossed the room, the slightest hint of a smile forming on his lips as he examined his most prized possession.

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'Simpler times,' thought Marty. _'Good times_.'

It had been almost 30 years since he last saw his good friend, "Doc" Brown, leave through time. Long, lean years... no wacky experiments, no frantic time-travel adventures. Nothing. He couldn't even talk about anything, since it wasn't supposed to have happened. He placed the picture back, thudding his fist on the shelf with a supressed "Damn..." escaping his lips. Returning to his seat, he grabbed the house controller from the crack of the seat, and turned on the See-Thru option. The entire celing and roof of his house seemed to disappear, giving him a view of the inky black, starry sky... so many stars...

Marty's next conscious thought was about a car...

"Eh?" _'Am I dreaming? Is that...'_


	2. Curiousity

Author's Note: Okay, so this update is way later than it should've been. I procrastinate. Should've asked for a PDA for Christmas. Oh well. ^_^ Remember now, this is my first fanfic, so don't be TOO harsh, because I will cry. Not really. But reviews would be nice. Let's hope it doesn't double-space everything, shall we? (Note: WordPerfect sucks. ;;) Back to the Future IS NOT MINE.

Oh, and thanks to TPQ for her l33t MSWord skills. Did I mention I hate WordPerfect?

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It.. can't be...

He paused.

It couldn't be.

Almost 30 years since he had last seen him. No way the DeLorean could've stayed together over all that time. Besides, why not say anything earlier? Come to an earlier point? It didn't add up.

Whether he believed it or not, a DeLorean was landing in front of his house and pulling into his driveway.

"This is just a dream. A very.. intense.. dream," Marty kept repeating to himself.

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Why does that sound familiar?

A figure emerged from the vehicle, slowly.

Grey, silvery hair.

The distinctive aura.

Ramming his knee into the side of the car and yelling "Damn!" removed the rest of the doubt from Marty.

Either he was dreaming, or his old friend was ringing his doorbell at this very moment. Marty wasn't good at guessing dreams from reality in 1955, and times hadn't changed too much.

He rose, and went to the door, his palm sweaty and barely able to thumb it open.

There he was, loud shirt and all.

Neither of them spoke for a moment.

A moment that seemed like an eternity, but for those of you keeping track, was still a moment.

"Doc?"

"Yes, Marty.. it's me."

"Doc" Emmitt L. Brown indeed, in the flesh. Although the outlandish attire remained, nothing remained quite the same as Marty remembered. Deeper wrinkles lined his face. His hair seemed an even lighter shade of grey. His eyes seemed tired... a bit of the old flame flashed when he opened the door, but they seemed almost defeated. None of the old man's energy, which once had an almost visible aura around him, seemed to be present any more. It almost seemed like it wasn't him.

"My God, Doc.. what happened to you?" Marty stepped aside, and Doc slowly shuffled inside, his head down slightly.

"I.." Doc found it difficult to form sentences. _After all_, thought Doc, _what do you say to a friend you abandoned, unwillingly or not, for thirty years?_ "Been workin'."

"Working? Jeez, Doc.. thirty years, and that's it?!" Marty's eyes narrowed, thirty years of emotion ready to let loose. "Thirty years, and all I have to remember you by is a photo on the mantle and a faint memory of you leaving on your train?"

"Heh.." A slight grin showed on the corners of Doc's mouth. "You still haven't changed, Marty.. now, think. What would hold my attention more than anything for so long?"

He turned to face him, and Marty saw a pin on his jacket.. a brief flashback popped in front of his eyes, of an old man sniffing at a blue flower long, long ago..

"Yes, Marty, I see it in your eyes.. She.." He paused, continuing with a breaking voice. "Remember, Marty, when we first used the DeLorean?"

More flashbacks.. "Yeah, you had that plutonium setup. So?" Marty knew it was related, but he couldn't put his finger on what Doc was getting at.

"The family money's gone, Marty. I don't have the money to hook up another Mr. Fusion.. I'm lucky I could get the DeLorean, as it is." He looked defeated, almost disgusted at himself, then continued. "Well.. this required a new nuclear system for time-travel.. Clara had a teacher's mind, a curious mind.. and she was more-"

Marty interrupted him. "Doc.. what're you saying?"

"She didn't know about radiation.. Marty, she.." He sunk down into a chair. "That was a week after we parted.. I'm surprised she survived as long as she did."

All the blood in Marty chilled. "She.. died?"

A nod was his only response.

"Holy jeez, Doc, this is heavy.."

"That ain't the half of it, either.."

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Ooooooooh. Shocking. Actually, it kinda is. I don't know what I'm gonna write to continue the story until I sit down and get ideas. My writer's mind is kinda like a Choose Your Own Adventure book, mixed with Mad Libs or something. Anyhoo.. Chapter Three to come whenever. (tentative date. heh.)


	3. Questions, Answers

Author's Note: Hey y'all. Enjoying the feedback. ^^ I didn't think I'd get any reviews.. hell, I didn't think the story would be worth reading, since I have no ideas in my head until I go to write.. but a friend told me that non-planned writing like that is the best. Which I'm inclined to agree. Hey, I'm having fun, and that's probably what this is about, right? ^^

I'm kinda suprised (disappointed?) at the lack of criticism in reviews, though. Oh well. If you have nothing but good to say, yay for me. Although a little constructive criticism would help. By the way, I fixed the spacing in the first chapter a while back. 'tis readable now. ^_^;

In case you haven't noticed, updates are really erratic. (I know: "Really?!" Answer: "Yes. Duh.") Attribute it to school, I guess. Or, you know, lazyness. Heh. I should get a notebook for writing away from the computer. Meh, maybe.

I should be doing my English homework, but instead, I'm typing this. Yep. And, just because this line is the shortest one before this addition... I FIGURED OUT HOW TO MAKE WORDPERFECT SAVE AS .HTM FILES! W00T! Yes, that's right, no waiting for Alicia (TPQ) to get online so I can upload this with my bold/italic mods. ^^

Thinking back on it, I could've added some more details to the story... but hey, I'm learning. Or trying, anyway. XP

Anyway... enough of my rambling, onto the story. Back to the Future isn't mine. I dunno if I'm required to say that each time, but doesn't hurt, right? :)

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"Not the half of it?"

Marty shook back into reality, and sat across from Doc. Little sound eminated from outside, as well as scant light - only traces of pre-21st century streetlights, not compatible with the installed OSO (Out-Stays-Out) unit for the house. Things downstairs had seemed to quiet down, as well. Perhaps the kids had on the headphones now. Or they were making out. Either way, Marty was unfazed, focused only on his friend, who sighed and sat straighter in his chair.

_So, lemme get this straight, _he thought to himself. _Clara is dead. Doc has a new time machine. Okay.. this has more holes in it than that contract I signed that one time to get my WindowVision fixed. "No allowance of customer aggravation?" Chicken, my ass._

"Correct, Marty." Doc paused for a moment, taking in the details around him. How Marty still had his suit jacket on - the same he remembered from the pre-Sports Almanac incident - yet had his tie loosened. The clear night, still showing through the roof above them. How the fire was burning, yet he felt no heat. _Funny, I didn't figure Marty for the Fire-Optic setup, _Doc mused with a slight, yet brief smile, before continuing. "When me and Clara parted... it wasn't for something as silly as we wanted to go on seperate vacations."

"Well, then what the Hell do you mean?!" snapped Marty, after Doc paused for longer than intended.

"Marty... I drove her away. I'm a scientist, not a family man." He brushed his hair back with a sigh, and continued. "I suppose all the times I forgot our anniversary, or the boys' birthdays, because I was in the lab added up."

"But.. you said she got radiation poisoning, Doc. What happened?" Marty leaned forward, a quizzal/doubting look on his face.

"Well, she came into the lab one day steaming. She 'had had it,' or so she put it. Not quite sure. I mean, if you were in a radiation suit holding plutonium in front of you, wouldn't you be focused?" After receiving a half-hearted nod from Marty, he continued. "Well, she wanted my attention. So she grabbed my arm.. and the plutonium casing broke. I screamed bloody murder while I was running, trying to get her a suit and quarantine the lab at the same time. Why she thought scooping up the plutonium with her bare hands would help was beyond me..."

"So that's how she got poisoned..." Marty paused, looking at his feet for a moment. "So what about--"

"--the Delorean?" Doc grinned. "I thought you would be intrested. First off, it's not the original one, of course."

"Duh. I kinda saw it get hit by a train, Doc."

Doc rolled his eyes. "Anyway. Unlike their mother, the boys were science nuts. Clara was always a teacher, but the boys were like me - wanting to learn more, learn anything possible." He smiled at the memory of his two boys, then spoke again. "So I would need a large sum of money to create another time machine. I already had the specs," - Doc tapped his forehead, then went on - "but it would still be a large amount of money."

"So where do your boys come in? They invent some sort of super-duper device or something?" Marty asked sarcastically.

"Not to say they haven't - I mean, I didn't keep an eye on them constantly - but no. Bit ironic, actually... horse race. They won their starting funds on a horse race."

"A horse race?!" A fleeting image of a beefy high school bully flashed through Marty's mind. "Biff..."

"Not involved, but yes, Marty. The same way Biff got rich." Doc chuckled. "They took the bit they won and... well, they refused to give me all the details, but they somehow came up with the money. I didn't ask, because I was afraid I wouldn't want to know." He gave a half-hearted shrug. "Besides, I wanted a new time machine, right?"

"Oookay.. so you bought a new Delorean, built a new time machine into it, yadda yadda... I've still got some questions, Doc. What's up with your boys now? What year were you in all this time? Why didn't you just use your time-travelling train? And what stopped you from simply meeting me 20 years ago?" Marty's voice raised with each question, almost daring Doc to answer.

"Good questions, Marty. But you forget, I have some of my own." Careful to act out of Marty's gaze, Doc reached into his pocket, and unfolded a piece of paper. Looking at it quickly and secretly, he stowed it away again.

"Huh?" Marty looked dumbfounded.

Doc's gaze and voice went cold. "For starters, why are you going to kill me?"

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Dun_ dun dunnnn! _Nothin' like a good ol' cliffhanger. Am I pissing anyone off yet with those? ^_^ Trust me, not even I know what's going to happen next. Anything I've written so far has been completely off the top of my head, minus a few general details to give me a bit of an outline. Enough to keep loopholes out of my stories, I hope. Hehe.

So yeah. Read, enjoy, review if you want, and if you have anything you'd like me to check out, I will. (If I remember, that is. ^_^;;)

Any complaints, by the way? Too short? Not enough detail? Loopholes? Lemme know.


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